Fear and Loathing in Rosewood
by TashaB-26
Summary: Aria was admitted to Rosewood Hospice's Psychiatric Ward after her failed attempt at suicide. One night she gains an unexpected roommate who she realises is very familiar. What will happen when Aria becomes aware that she may be part of the reason why he is there? Will they save each other or will one slip away?
1. Chapter 1

**This is an introduction to a story I have been contemplating on whether or not to write for a while, so it is quite short. This chapter is merely a tester to see what kind of response it gets and see whether it is worth pursuing. This Fanfiction is slightly different to the others, it is written in the form of** **Aria's diary entries and she is slightly more sarcastic. Ezra's character is also slightly more mundane, but the characters aren't completely OOC. I am not quite sure yet if it will be partly written from Ezra's perspective at all, but we will have to see about that. Without further a due, I hope you enjoy my story and here it is...**

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 **July 9th 2013**

 **Day 13**

 **The New Kid**

9 o'clock on a Friday night and I was stuck here. I was 18, I should be out with my friends having the time of my life, but that wasn't an option. Admittedly, I am at fault. I am the reason I am in this hospital bed. I know now that this is not where I want to be. I learnt my lesson; I just wanted to go home. I didn't need to be watched like some faulty landmine that could explode at any minute. Just diffuse me. It would save all the hassle.

I had been here for two weeks, but only on Wednesday did it begin taking its toll on me. You want to prevent me from becoming depressed? Here's an idea, let me out of this melancholy hospital filled with people who are on the same mentality level as me. Surely that wasn't a good idea. Surrounding suicidal people with more suicidal people. It didn't make sense to me. The group meetings were a bust. Hearing people complain about their problems wasn't the most uplifting thing in the world. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to feel grateful for not having it as bad as some of them or complain that I had it worse. I did neither. Instead, I zoned out for 30 minutes and spewed some sort of pathetic explanation every time I was asked "Why did you come here?" As if it was my choice at all.

As I had already mentioned, I was 18. I was 18 and therefore, in terms of the government, I was an adult. If I knew being 18 meant I would be admitted to the adult psychiatric ward then I would have failed to commit suicide last year. Of course, I wasn't aware I would be surrounded by middle aged men and women experiencing a VERY severe mid-life crisis. Don't get me wrong, their problems are as important as mine, if not more, but I just didn't want to be there.

The worst part of this whole experience was that I was stuck here for the majority of summer break, but the best part was I no longer wanted to die. I guess the pros outweigh the cons. Though, I knew I had nothing to look forward to it was better than being dead. I guess. I mean, my mom had reassured me that this is just a phase in my life that we will overcome. I tried to tell her that not getting into college wasn't a phase and would ultimately ruin every plan I had for the future, but negative-talk was prohibited so, whenever they visited, we had to play happy families and plaster a false smile onto our faces until our cheeks burned with exhaustion.

The thing is, my family didn't know how to handle this, but neither did I. Mental illness had run in our family, not depression albeit it was still severe stuff, yet we didn't know how to deal with it. The mental illness that a few members had suffered from was usually the type that required help whereas my help was merely a suggestion that my worried parents were persistent in accepting regardless of my pleas and promises.

So, yeah, here I was at 9 o'clock on a Friday evening sitting in my shared room. I and my parents had agreed that I would share a unisex room due to the lack of space. Rosewood really made people want to kill themselves. It's pretty clear by now that, despite my ability to sympathise with these people, I was extremely insensitive. Life does that to you. It was hard to feel for these people when I struggled to feel anything at all.

I am going off track again. Anyway, for the last time, I am here at Rosewood Hospice at 9 o'clock on a Friday evening. This was a significant Friday evening, not only because three hours prior my parents managed to sneak me McDonalds, but because this was the evening he joined my room.

I was sat, scrolling through my phone, reading through the messages that had been sent in by family, all of which wishing me a "speedy recovery" as if I had caught some sort of terrible cold or broken my leg. In fact when I was 13 I broke my leg and received similar messages, but they contained more humour and less Bible quotes. See, I had no problem with religion, but I just didn't see the correlation between Mark 3:1-6 and the fact I swallowed a bottle of pills. I mean, Bible quotes were not what I should be receiving, if anything it was the opposite since what I did was considered very unholy.

I let out a groan and settled myself in to bed, an early night may be ideal since I had a hectic Saturday ahead of me filled with crafts, support groups, and convincing my parents that I am mentally stable. I was thankful it was summer since, being that both my parents were teachers; it meant that they had enough time to visit me every day for at least an hour. Although the conversations may have not been the most riveting, it was still something familiar. As much as I hated to admit it, being alone was kind of scary.

After trying to coax myself into sleep for 10 minutes, the door opened and a lit up the darkened room. Most of the people just groaned at the light and pulled their blankets over their heads. I, however, was intrigued by it. From the muffled talk between the doctor and the mysterious stranger I could interpret that the stranger was being admitted to the ward. The stranger, from what I could see, was a man; he was a man of average height and a slim stature. The man was directed to the only empty bed left in the room which was situated directly across from me. The man's voice sounded familiar, but I put it down to the meds playing tricks on me. The doctor bid him a goodnight. I remained still, watching him as best I could in the dark room as he settled into his bed. I wasn't being a crazy stalker bitch, but I was drawn to this person. I had been the last person admitted to this ward and I was strangely pleased I was no longer the new kid- technically, still the only kid though.

Soon I heard as the man began to breath heavy which told me he had fallen asleep and I should probably do the same. I checked my phone one last time to see notifications popping on my screen of updates from my friends who were supposedly partying their asses of at some Frat Party as they welcomed the new college life that was on the horizon. The thought already making me feel sick. I had no idea what I was going to do anymore. Without college I had nothing. I pushed the thought to the back of my mind as I drifted off into a much needed sleep, allowing my dreams to sooth my worried mind.

That night I dreamt about the voice. The voice brought me to an empty room with nothing but a chalkboard. The room was familiar, it was definitely a classroom. The voice spoke words I couldn't quite make out, and then came a figure. It was a silhouette of a man, the man that was admitted last night from the looks of things. He was average height and had a slim stature, much like the man. I travelled towards the shadow until it became something more. It was the back of a man; he was dressed in a white shirt and waistcoat and apparently had dark curly hair. It was then it hit me.

The sound of the nurse calling my name caused me to shoot up into sitting position, as I did so; the man across from me too began waking up. He slowly dragged his body up and rubbed his eyes. I watched him intently as I waited for his reaction. He removed his hands from his eyes slowly. I waited for him to look back at me. My nerves were erratic. What was he going to do once he knew he would be sharing a room with me? I knew once his eyes had adjusted on to me that he knew who I was. His eyes widened on to me and jaw dropped. My ex-English teacher, Mr Fitz, is my new roomie. Things around here are about to get a lot more interesting.

Finally, he spoke.

"Holy Crap."


	2. Chapter 2

**July 10th 2013**

 **Day 14**

 **Friends?**

"What were you doing in there? That was a men's room?" He whisper-shouted to me as he sat across me at the breakfast table, twirling his spoon around his bowl of Oatmeal. Clear he had no intention of eating it.

He looked different from what I remembered, not significantly, but enough to notice. His hair was no longer combed to the side, but instead grew curly and untamed. His eyes didn't sparkle like they did before and held bags underneath them. Mr Fitz had always been pale, but it had suited him, now he looked as if he was ill. The sight definitely worried me, but I had an idea why he looked like that. This ward wasn't for the physically ill.

"There was no room. Apparently there are a _lot_ of suicidal women in this town." I lightly chuckled though he didn't find me amusing and instead shot me a look of complete disbelief.

"Well, they better find room because I can't possibly share with my ex-student." He said before shaking his head to which I rolled my eyes at. What a law abiding citizen. It's not like it really mattered, he hadn't taught me in 2 years.

"Who cares?" I shrugged whilst I stared down at my Oatmeal. "You scared people will find out? I am not planning on telling anyone. The only people who know I am here are close friends and family and I plan to keep it that way." The thought of people finding out made my stomach churn. They couldn't find out, but in this town it was pretty much inevitable. .

"Why are you here?" He cautiously asked. My eyes stared down at the food before me as I contemplated my answer. It was clear he had noticed my reluctance to answer. "I'm sorry. It's none of my business."

"We have Support Group soon. So, I am going to have a shower." I informed him, my eyes still avoiding his as I left my untouched oatmeal and scurried off to the bathroom.

I returned from the bathroom, already dressed. I had yet had my parents bring my hair dryer which meant my hair was a frizzy messy for the majority of the day which I didn't care about before now. I had always managed to keep up appearances in school; I was in a popular clique and therefore I dressed the part, with my own unique and quirky spin on it of course. It was rare that Mr Fitz would see me looking so rough; however, he didn't look much better than I. It's crazy how much can change in 2 years. I had always found Mr Fitz attractive and I liked to think he didn't think I was ugly. All that was about to change once I transformed into a hairball. I pulled my hair into a bun, allowing a few strands to fall before heading to support group.

I entered the large, dull room that was painted with cream walls and held cream furniture. The aesthetic wasn't one that necessarily screamed "Life is full of colour" but it grew on me as time passed. The hall was filled with blue plastic chairs, as it is almost every morning. A few of the familiar patients had already taken their seats, all holding unsteady smiles as if at any minute it would collapse into a frown. The sight was unsettling and really sad. I wasn't the most compassionate person, evidently, but the sight was painful. Who knew I had a heart?

Then I caught sight of Mr Fitz who was stood looking out of the bared windows with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. He looked like he was at peace in thought, but whether that was true I didn't know. I didn't think it was likely. If his thoughts were at peace then being here didn't make sense to me.

I built up the courage to approach him; Support Group wasn't for another 5 minutes and I didn't feel like starting conversation with someone I didn't know. In truth, I didn't really know Mr Fitz. Mr Fitz was my teacher and only that. He had acknowledged me a bit because I was top of the class, but other than the usual greeting, the awkward eye contact, and the rare praising, we weren't really close.

"Hey, Buddy" I coyly greeted as I approached him. He seemed startled by my presence at first but relaxed almost instantly as he realised it was me. "The crazies got you on edge, huh?"

"'buddy?'" He scoffed. "Last time I checked we were never friends." He bitterly replied.

"Ouch!" I jokingly feigned hurt. "You sure know how to make a depressed girls day. You ever think about joining a suicide hotline?" I sarcastically questioned. He turned his head to face me, shooting me a look that told me he didn't find me amusing, before he returned his sights to the beautiful view of construction work.

"Good Morning, guys. Are you ready for today's discussions?" Carol, the head of the support group, pleasantly asked. She had perfect timing, something told me that mine and Mr Fitz's conversation wasn't going too great.

Carol was around her late 40s or early 50s, supported a typical middle-aged mom haircut, and wore clothes as if she was attending Woodstock. I had only been attending here for around 2 weeks, but I liked Carol. She never made us talk if we didn't want to, she made us feel welcome, and her face didn't seem capable of not smiling which contrasted to the usual grey looking people surrounding me. Though I often found people like that annoying and fake, Carol seemed comforting. Ezra and I made our way to the seats and sat down, it was clear he ensured to keep his distance from me. I was offended, but I brushed it off. I wasn't going to let him know that his closed off demeanour kind of hurt.

"I have been told that we have a new member joining our Group today." Carol introduced in her usual cheery manner, she gestured over to Ezra who gave everyone a very obvious forced smile. "Care to introduce yourself to the group?"

Mr Fitz, reluctantly, stood from his chair. I rolled my eyes at his I'm-too-good-for-this attitude, though I kind of shared it with him. I believed my mentality was excused because I was a teenager, but for some strange reason his way of being had disappointed me. Mr Fitz has always been such an open-minded, happy person. Seeing him act like this was so out of character that it didn't even feel like it was him standing a meter away from me.

"I'm Ezra Fitz, I am 25 years old and that's pretty much all I have to say." He awkwardly informed the group before sitting back down with evident relief that he had gotten that over and done with.

"Is that all you have to say? Don't you wish to share your story with the group?" Carol asked in a tone that was rather condescending. From Ezra's expression, I could tell he didn't appreciate her tone much. I knew she didn't mean to sound condescending, but instead gentle. At first I felt the same as Ezra, yet now he just seemed arrogant. I must've seemed the same.

Ezra shot a glance in my direction before returning his sight to Carol, "Maybe another time."

"That's completely fine. Whenever you feel like talking, as long as someone else isn't, then feel free to do so. We are in a no-judging-zone. Anyway, welcome to our group." The group then copied Carol's words and each mumbled him a 'welcome, Ezra' I couldn't help but giggle, which went unheard by everyone except Ezra causing a ghost of a smirk form on his lips that he covered with his hand.

The Support Group continued and Ezra and I managed to remain mute through the rest of it. The only form of contact we shared was when we exchanged looks that became routine throughout the session. It was quite similar to how we were during Rosewood High. For some reason Ezra and I always seemed to engage in awkward eye-contact throughout lessons. The only difference now was that the looks weren't awkward and every time they occurred we couldn't help but smile or stifle a laugh.

The session ended and it was now snack break, but I had other ideas. The arts and crafts room was where I usual found my solace, but there were only certain times that it remained empty. Breaking away from the group without getting caught wasn't so hard and for some reason the arts and crafts room wasn't locked. I felt they somehow knew that was where I planned to reside with any chance of alone time I could get and allowed it. I began heading to the room when I heard someone approaching me from behind, I came to a halt and was surprised when I turned around to see Ezra jogging up to me.

"Hey," He called "where are you going?" He asked. His tone was far more upbeat than before the session. I was shocked he even wanted to associate with me.

"Um… the arts and crafts room."

"Isn't it against the rules to go somewhere there isn't a nurse present?"

"Yeah." I nonchalantly shrugged as I turned away from him and continued heading toward the room.

"I never knew you were so defiant." He chuckled as he followed suit behind me. "I also never knew you were into art. I mean, I knew you were creative, that was pretty clear through your writing, but I didn't know you were artistic."

"I'm a lot of things, I guess." I monotonously replied as I finally entered the light green double doors into the empty room. "Do you draw?"

"No, I am a very terrible artist, but I definitely appreciate the art. A few years ago I actually attended this art exhibit at the 'Basia' in Philadelphia. The only problem was the artist who was supposed to attend didn't."

"I was actually going to go there with my mom, but life was pretty hectic back then." I nodded with a pursed lipped smile as I retrieved all the necessary items I needed to begin my project. "You know, for someone who was pretty set on avoiding me, you seem pretty sociable." I light-heartedly observed as I began sketching on the paper, not looking in his direction as he took a seat beside me on the round table.

"Yeah. Well, honestly, I wasn't planning on talking to you much, but during the session… I-I can't remember the last time I smiled like that." He admitted with a shy smile, my attention instantly diverted to him and returned him his smile. The fact I had been the reason for his smile made butterflies consume my stomach. I didn't understand why that was, but to know I had made him happy for the first time in so long was a great accomplishment.

"So, I take it that either you have amnesia or you don't smile very often." I joked as I continued my sketching which I was glad he had found amusing. "Either is possible in this place."

"Not that often. Not since I left Rosewood High." He ruefully admitted.

"Why did you leave?" I asked as I concentrated on my art, my bottom lip curling absently as it usually did when I was in deep concentration. I noticed his hesitation and repeated his words from earlier. "I'm sorry. It's none of my business."

"You must be 18 now, right?" He asked, clearly eager to change the topic of conversation.

"I believe so."

"I wish I was still 18." He chuckled.

"I don't." I muttered. He gave me a questioning look. "Don't look so confused, if I enjoyed being 18 would I really be here?"

"You've got a point." He nodded in understanding. "You're really good, you know that?" He asked, seemingly in awe as he observed my sketching.

"I know." I smirked before sparing him a glance. "Don't think I am modest just because I am in this cuckoo's nest."

"Well, you're certainly something." He grinned at me, making me blush as I brought my attention back to my work.

"Aria, you can't keep disappearing." Carol feebly warned as she burst through the double doors, ruining our moment causing me to roll my eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm just not hungry." I shrugged as I continued on with my work, not willing to leave.

"You didn't even eat your oatmeal this morning." Carol sighed as she approached us both and took a seat on the plastic chair opposite us.

"Do you blame me? It looks like camel sick."

"Aria, come on, if you want to get out of this place you have to cooperate." Carol reasoned and she was right, but suddenly leaving didn't seem as appealing as before.

If I left I would be greeted by my old life and nothing has really changed. I'm still not in college, my existence is still doomed. In here it seemed as if the world was moving slower, as if the real world wasn't a problem anymore. Once I leave everything will return to the way it was. I didn't want to have to deal with that, not yet anyway. Give it a few years.

"Okay, let's go." I sighed in defeat as I stood up from the chair.

"Ezra, I would appreciate it if you didn't accompany Aria on her little endeavors." Carol smiled to Ezra who nodded, seeming embarrassed by being so completely compelled to follow me, an 18 year old girl. I didn't make him do it, he wanted to.

"I'm sorry, Carol." He sweetly replied. His tone was so similar to how he used to speak, so completely sycophantic. What a people pleasure.

Lunch came and I sat where I usually sat. The table was full as everyone silently scoffed their guts with their oh-so-delicious microwave meals. The sight was actually quite off putting. It was like watching animals feed at the zoo, it wasn't the most appealing sight yet you couldn't seem to look away. Then I heard as my name was called. My eyes searched the room until they landed on Ezra who waved at me; I playfully rolled my eyes before I discreetly stuck my middle finger up at him. I glanced at him and then my finger before faking surprise at my actions and forcing my finger down. He laughed at my silliness, I wasn't being very funny, but it made him laugh and that's all I cared about. The strange need to make him happy was overwhelming. What was happening to me? Did my heart just grow three sizes?

Lunch was over and it was almost time for some exciting activity that somehow was made depressing. Everything was made depressing in this place. No one really wanted to partake in the activities and I didn't really blame them. When you're worried about the fact you're unable to pay rent or your son died, you don't really want to be focusing on trying to cut snowflakes in the middle of summer. I didn't mind the activities though, it kept me preoccupied.

"Hey, buddy." Ezra greeted me.

"Last time I checked we were never friends." I playfully mocked in an overly gloomy voice.

"Is that really how I sound?" Ezra solemnly asked, clearly self-conscious.

"Pretty much." I nodded. "Hey, don't worry. We all sound the same in this place. I like to call it 'The voice of fear and loathing'."

"You're an interesting one, Ms Montgomery." Ezra spoke, staring at me with astonishment. "What's our next adventure?" He eagerly questioned.

It was strange, this change in character. I didn't know Mr Fitz well enough to know if he was always like this or whether this was his way of dealing. We all had our own way. I closed myself off from people. I became sarcastic and sometimes bitter. It seemed Mr Fitz dealt by looking for a distraction, excitement. Lucky for him, I had a knack for finding it.

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 **Hey, so I decided to continue thanks to your supportive reviews! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and I hope I was able to answer any questions left unanswered from the previous one, if not feel free to ask anything and I'll try to answer as best I can without ruining the story. Thank you for reading and for your kind reviews!**

 **-Tasha x**


	3. Chapter 3

**July 11th 2013**

 **Day 15**

 **I Am A Woman!**

I blew out a huff of air as I rested my chin on my hands, my elbow propped up on the arm of the chair. I looked up at the clock on the wall across from me. I was anxious for my parents to leave as they bickered on about the same boring things. Passive-aggressive arguments between my caring parents as they attempted to remain civil in the midst of their temperamental daughter. It's not like I was going to jump out of one of these windows because they were arguing over who was supposed to pick Mike up from lacrosse- Not like I could even if wanted to, they were all bared.

My attention drifted over to the vacant bed across from mine. I smiled to myself as I thought about our poor attempt at excitement. I didn't mind that we got caught on our endeavours as we planned to reach the roof, just to see the view, not to jump off the top. Well, at least that was my plan, I wasn't sure about Ezra. I didn't know enough about his state of mind to make that type of conclusion. That's kind of worrying really. What if we had made it to the roof and his demeanour was all a façade for a great escape. He wouldn't do that to me, would he?

"Something on your mind, honey?" Ella sweetly asked me, her hand stroking mine.

I glanced over to my Dad who was trying his hardest not to convey his true aggravation towards my Mom, but it was obvious. My Mom and Dad have had a rocky relationship since she found out about the affair; they broke up, got back together, and were on the verge of breaking up again until I decided to eat a bottle of pills instead of breakfast that morning. The thought of pancakes now made me whinge; I would do anything to taste the sweet syrup again, instead of the bland oatmeal that my taste buds detested.

"I'm great. Just a bit tired." I loosely shrugged, giving them both the exit warrant that they both craved since they had both stepped foot in this mundane room.

I didn't blame them, the walls were an offish white and the furniture was made of mental, the room lacked more colour than the dead-skinned patients. The area didn't scream "visit your daughter for longer than an hour" which is exactly why they didn't care to stay longer than an hour every couple of days. I preferred it anyway. Distance makes the heart grow fonder… or whatever.

"We better leave you to rest up then. You'll be out of here in no time, sweet heart." My Dad said, just as I expected, as he stood up a little too eagerly.

He pressed a kiss to my forehead and gave me a smile that I suppose was meant to be comforting but instead came across as pitiful. My Mom proceeded to do the same, her hold on me lasting a little longer than his. There was a small part of me that screamed for her not to let go, but I ignored it as I usually did. I didn't need them to coddle me, I was a woman now.

"I love you." The both yelled in unison, seeming to be the only thing they both agreed on since they arrived here.

I didn't call back, they were out so quick that they wouldn't even have heard me if I had. A surprising grumble arose from my empty stomach and, as if the lord had heard my stomach growling, the bell rang to signal it was lunch. I wasn't really excited by the prospect of having to eat whatever they had to offer me which they liked to call "food," but I could eat anything, even if it didn't look edible.

I strolled into the cafeteria; the whole concept of dinner time at this institute always triggered memories of school. I remembered entering the crowded hall and spotting my friends in our usual seat, indulging in the secrets of Rosewood. It was different now though, I wasn't greeted by the smell of freshly cooked food, the naturally lit room, and the smiles of familiar face. Instead I was met by a room that was artificially lit by rectangular bulbs that hung dangerously from the ceiling, and the only familiar face here was his and it didn't serve me much comfort- especially now.

I queued and received the gift of the poorly cooked meal before I searched the cafeteria for him, I was surprised that his cheery exterior had faded overnight and he had returned to the mundane man whom I met yesterday morning. Taking a deep breath, I readied myself for whatever depressing crap that was about to come from his pretty mouth, and approached his table.

"Oh my god!" I falsely exclaimed with a conscientious smile, "Mr Fitz, fancy seeing you here this fine morn." His attention slowly drifted from his food to me, a small, false smile pulling on his lips.

"Hey." He weakly responded, his fork scrapping over the food on his plate. "Do you mind if I eat alone? I'm not in the mood to entertain company."

"Fitz," I sighed "what makes you think I would come to you for any sort of entertainment? Let's face it; you're not the most amusing of people." I deadpanned, hoping that I would somehow evoke some happiness in my downbeat 11th grade English Teacher.

"Aria, please, I'm not in the mood." He moaned, his fingers rubbing his tired eyes.

"Okay. I'll leave you to wallow in self-pity. Don't come crying to me when you're happy again and want a friend." I teased as I began walking away from him, hoping he would call me back, but he didn't. I reluctantly headed to the table opposite from where he sat alone, sitting with the people I found myself circling before Fitz started here.

My group consisted mostly of middle aged women, being that I was the only teenager here, most of the patients consisted of middle age women. I just knew that these didn't pose a threat to me, no one going to attack me with a fork because they think I'm secretly "plotting to get them." That happened to someone before and I _do not_ want to be the person at the other end of the fork, even if they are plastic.

"You better eat that, Missy." The familiar grandmotherly voice of Carol spoke from behind me, almost making me jump out of my skin.

I turned to watch her with bewildered eyes as she sat in the vacant seat beside me with her own delicious might-as-well-be-clucking-chicken, fries, and peas. I never quiet understood how someone could remain so positive in such a negative atmosphere, but I certainly appreciated it. Everyone's sullenness was starting to impact me and I didn't want to go down that path again. Pills were better taken in twos, not tens.

Carol ate her meal and we engaged in idle chit-chat about the weather and whether or not I'd considered jumping off the top of the building, she was pleased to hear that was not my motive. The entire conversation I couldn't help but find myself distracted by the man who sat opposite me with a grieving look. Maybe he had gotten bad news? Maybe these mood swings were routine for him? Either way I wanted to help him and I couldn't really understand why.

I scraped the remnants of my food into the trash and paced over to Ezra who was making a quick approach to the exit. I suppose I should respect his privacy and allow him to wander freely, but I was worried. He was in here for a reason and I wanted to make sure that the reason wasn't hanging over his head like his personal dark cloud. I saw dark clouds a lot in this place, but he was the only person I felt I could help dry up the rain.

"I was watching this TV show before I got locked up, it was really good; it was called 'How to get away with murder.' Ever seen it?" I chirpily asked the man who I had finally reached, my little legs aching to keep up with his long strides towards a place that was unknown to me.

He groaned and came to a sudden halt, my feet almost screeched across the floor so I was able to stop. He looked at me like someone would look at a puppy that had just messed on the carpet, a mixture of sympathy and disappointment.

"Aria, please stop following me." He begged, his voice sounding exasperated.

"Ezra, I can't. You're bumming me out and I need to make sure this doesn't continue so that I can enjoy life as much as I possibly can in this place." I responded, mocking his tone.

I couldn't let him know the real reason I was bugging him. These feelings weren't the type of feelings you should have for your ex-teacher, I shouldn't care that he is upset. I cared though, I cared a lot. I didn't like seeing him unhappy. Trust me; this was a rarity for me lately. Ever since the whole "no college" fiasco, all I've wanted to do was see the world crash and burn. And here I am trying to out his fire. This wasn't like me.

"I'm fine. Sometimes adults just need some alone time." He apologetically responded.

Adults? This guy must've forgotten who he was talking to. How dare he patronise me! I am not a child and I will not be treated like one. Especially not by him, Mr be-my-best-friend-then-leave-me-alone. You know what's childish? Him. The stupid idiot with his stupid idiot hairdo.

"So I am not an adult?" I bitterly scoffed, narrowing my eyes on to his.

"Yes. I mean, no, you are but- but that's not what I meant." He stammered, his rueful eyes staring back into mine as he clearly mentally berated himself.

"If you want to be left alone, fine. Just don't expect me to be here whenever you please like I am some toy for you to play with when you get bored. Goodbye, Mr Fitz." I spat before spinning on my heels and storming away from him.

The rest of the day I spent in the movie room, watching whatever crap that danced across the screen. My expression was as vacant as those around me who stared at the screen with completely disinterest. My mind was preoccupied with other things, reeling over his words. I wasn't the same 16 year old that he taught 2 years ago, something told me that he didn't see that. I also worried where he had disappeared to and why he didn't come to look for me. That was selfish to think, I know, but I couldn't help it. I wanted him to wonder about me the same way I did with him.

After hours of sitting around doing nothing but stare at a TV screen and fiddling with the dead ends on my untamed hair, I decided to wander. When I say wander, I meant travel back to my room in the hopes that he would be there and he would be unharmed. It was hard in this place to do any damage, since everything was basically wrapped with saran-wrap, but a desperate man will do desperate things.

I nonchalantly entered the room and stopped dead in my tracks when I saw Ezra sitting opposite a woman with long dark hair. Ezra sat with his head in his hands whilst she rubbed his back, her face so close to his ear that it was as if she was sharing a secret with him, even though the room was empty. The pair noticed my entry; I made no effort to make my presence unknown as I purposefully knocked my foot against the trolley beside the door. Both of their heads shot up, their eyes wide. The woman's eyes were the prettiest shades of blue and my heart couldn't help but sink at the realisation. She was beautiful.

"Sorry." I said, holding up my hands. "I didn't know you had company."

"Its fine, Jackie was just leaving." Ezra said as he stood from the bed. His voice was subtly laced with some sort of resentment that it was clear only Jackie was supposed to notice. I've never heard a pretty name sound so disgusting until it came from the mouth of Ezra Fitz.

"I suppose I was." Jackie responded. Her tone was cheery, but her eyes conveyed something more. Something told me that Frustrated Fitz was all down to the pretty woman beside him and I was slightly pleased with his reasoning. I was starting to believe that I may have been the cause to his gloomy state. "Have fun with the crazies."

Her harsh statement stung and if she wasn't my ex-teacher's something or other, then I would certainly have not bitten my tongue, but instead rip out her tacky extensions. I remained calm though, pretending that I hadn't heard her remark as I bat my eyelashes at her whilst she brushed past me and out of the room.

"She seems like a dream." I sarcastically remarked as I approached my bed.

"Yeah, more like a nightmare." He light-heartedly scoffed. "Sorry about earlier. I was just a bit worked up." He smiled as he watched me from the opposite side of the room.

"It's fine." I replied, returning the smile. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"I am now that she's gone." He chuckled as he began walking over to my bed where I pretended to preoccupy myself with the stuff in my drawer. "You want to do something fun?" He asked as he stood behind me, looking at me from over my shoulder.

I felt self-conscious. What if he catches me a bad angle? In honesty, the state I am currently in, every angel is a bad one, but what if catches me at an even worse angle. Wait. Why do I even care? He is my moody 11th grade teacher. He is neat and tidy Mr Fitz. That's all he is. He is too old to care. He probably sees me as a little girl, no, he definitely sees me as a little girl.

"I didn't even think you knew the meaning of the word." I retorted, not daring to look back at him and become lost in his smouldering blue eyes.

"Maybe you can teach me. You're the funniest person I've encountered over these past few months. It's ironic really; I didn't expect to find someone like you in a place like this." He let out a short lived chuckle and sat at the end of my bed.

"Fine." I huffed, turning to face him. His hopeful eye lit up as they stared into mine and for a moment I was sure I had forgotten how to breathe. "I'll be your friend, on the condition that you don't treat me like a child." I sternly responded, with the serious point of my finger.

"Aria, I didn't mean what I said earlier. You are not a child; I don't see you as a child. You're a crazy, sarcastic little woman." He joked, standing up so that he was only inches away from me. The heat of his body sending shivers up my spine. I could just stretch my toes and kiss him, but I didn't. My feet remained planted firmly on the ground, but my heart swelled with the prospect of ever feeling those lips against mine.

The night drifted in, and after hours of playful teasing and painting obnoxiously crude pictures, we retreated to our room. We returned to our respective beds and all of a sudden I wasn't so tired anymore. I spent days and months feeling exhausted, spending my waking hours surviving with the thoughts of soon becoming acquainted with sleep again. That was part of the reason why I had done what I did. I craved sleep so much that I never wanted to wake up, forever living in a dream. Suddenly, being awake didn't feel so bad.

"Are you tired?" I whispered across the room, hoping not to wake the other patients who were snoring so loudly that I was surprised that hadn't woken themselves up. I put it down to the pills.

"Not in the slightest." He whispered back lightly.

I could hear the smile in his voice and smiled too.

"Who was she? The girl who came to visit you today." I asked.

The question had been playing on my mind ever since I was graced with the presence of that bitch. I didn't want to mention it earlier because I didn't want to ruin the fun we were having, but I couldn't hold off any longer. By the way he spoke about her; I could only hope it was an annoying sister or something. Something told me I was wrong and that something was right.

I heard as he cleared his throat and shuffled uncomfortably in his bed, "She's my fiancée."

My heart sank to my stomach like it was being anchored down. It couldn't be true. When I thought about it now, it was pretty clear it was true. I recall Mr Fitz mentioning a girlfriend once in a while when he indulged us with anecdotes from his personal life, some that made the girls swoon and other, like the ones that included the mention of 'Girlfriend,' made them hiss. I, however, was unfazed. Sure, I always knew he was handsome, but he was just a teacher. I wish I still felt that way.

"Oh." Was all I could say and, as much as I tried, I couldn't disguise the disappointment in my voice.

"Yeah."

"I'm actually feeling quite tired." I said, feigning a yawn. "I'll speak to you tomorrow, Fitz."

I cried myself to sleep that night. I am not sure why. I put it down to hormones. I liked to think that he couldn't hear, but something told me that he did. I didn't want to care about him and I hated myself for doing so. I was scared, I couldn't possibly love an engaged man who was 7 years older than me and clearly as mentally unstable as I was deemed to be. Nothing good could come of it. It had to stop.

* * *

 **A/N It's been a while and I am so surprised, and pleased, that anyone still has interest in this story. I am sorry that it had taken so long to update, it is probably the hardest fanfiction for me to write. I don't want my characters to loose their personalities and when I am not in the right frame of mind, it's hard for me to write this fanfiction. I know, it's not the best excuse, but I am trying to improve. This chapter isn't the best, but it will improve. This is the calm before the storm. I am happy to answer any questions that remain unclear. Thank you for reading and reviewing, it means a lot!**

 **\- Tasha x**


	4. Chapter 4

**July 12th 2013**

 **Day 16**

 **Draw me like one of your French girls**

The morning followed its usual mundane routine, draining me of all my will to continue running this hamster wheel. I was fatigued, yet all I had done is sleep, well at least I tried to. After rinsing myself of all my tears I pulled the blanket over my head to shelter myself from the outside and escaped into my dreams. Like most nights, I couldn't exactly remember what I had dreamt of, but it must've been wonderful since it had completely captured me, making me never want to open my eyes again.

Still, I dragged myself out of the blanket this morning when the nurses came around to wake us. I waited until I was certain he had left, I didn't want to face him right now. I had to find some type of life within me before I was met by Erratic Ezra. I wasn't in the mood for his unpredictable nature. If he was close off, it would hurt me. If he wasn't, it would irritate me. It was best to steer clear of him today, as best as I could whilst being confined in the same small building as he.

I crept into the cafeteria, hoping to go unseen by his dark blue eyes. I shuffled in close behind the fork-stabber, risking my own health just to avoid his gaze. It appeared to have been a successful manoeuvre as I collected my oatmeal. I frowned down at the bowl as it was shoved before me. No improvement here I see. Still, I smiled gratefully at the cafeteria lady and shuffled along. One thing I certainly missed about Rosewood High was the food there, one of the perks of attending a suburban school.

I cursed myself as I felt the burning of his stare at the side of my face, I attempted to forces my sights elsewhere, but I couldn't help myself as I found my eyes drawn to him. As soon as my hazel eyes met his blue ones my heart skipped a beat. I pulled my gaze away instantly and fell into the closest seat to me. I put my bowed my head and stared at the bowl of oatmeal, it wasn't the best sight- or smell for that matter- but it beat catching eyes with Fitz.

Suddenly, I heard shuffling from opposite me and the weight of another body joining my table. I momentarily hoped it wasn't him. But, as hope usually goes, mine was shattered as I caught a whiff of his familiar scent that was mixture of coffee and shower gel. It amazes me how he still managed to carry such a strong scent in a place like this. The only smell that lingered here was either moth balls or chemicals. Not homely at all. Ezra, however, smelt of home. Not of my home, but of a home. Either way, it made me feel warm inside.

"Hey, you okay?" He asked, I could hear the uncomfortable tightness in he's voice.

He knew I wasn't alright and he suspect that he was the reason. I could sense it. Along with the smell of coffee and cleanliness, Ezra also reeked of guilt.

"Dandy." I sarcastically smiled before I plunged my spoon into the gooey liquid.

"Anything I can do to make you feel better?" He asked, the hint of a smile tracing his lips as he attempted to coax some reaction out of me.

He got a reaction alright, "how about you leave me alone." I muttered as I rose from my seat and retreated to a secluded table alone.

Not the reaction he may have expected though.

I was thankful he kept to my wishes by keeping his distance, yet I still frequently felt his lingering longing looks throughout the morning. But he didn't attempt to approach me. Not even once. He clearly could respect my wishes better than I could his... maybe I should see how he is. I couldn't bare to watch him moping around like this. I saw that dark cloud looming above his head again and it ached knowing that I put it there.

He sat amongst a few familiar, unnamed faces as they all stared at the television screen, none of them seeming to register what was happening. They were all too lost in their own thoughts. Ezra's eyes were trained there too, his right ankle resting on his thigh and his left thumb caged between his teeth, chewing anxiously.

"Wanna hang out?" I sheepishly asked, standing across from him.

His head shot to look at me, a faint smile rising on his exhausted face, "You sure?"

I softly chuckled and allowed a smile to grow on my chapped lips, "Of course. I need some sort of muse around here." I then waved my sketch pad at him and his grin widened.

Immediately he jumped up from his seat with new found life. He began walking towards me with a smirk, "make sure to draw me like one of your French girls."

We managed to sneak off into the arts and crafts room once again. He sat opposite me, pulling exaggerated facial expression as I began to sketch him; eyes narrowed, tongue poking from the side of my mouth. I playfully rolled my eyes every time he contorted his face into another hideous expression.

Finally I glared at him, "Stop. I want to do this seriously."

He chuckled and nodded, "Okay. Okay. Sorry."

"Who knows, one day it might be hanging in the Basia." I joked with a light shrug.

"I don't doubt it. Make me look handsome though." He playfully puffed up his chest and shot me a cheesy grin.

I light-heartedly seethed a breath, "I'll try my hardest."

"Ouch." He winced. "You've wounded me, Aria."

"If you keep pulling those faces then you'll truly feel what it's like to be wounded by me, Mr Fitz." I warned.

I was surprised when I saw he's smile fall into a frown, one he was clearly attempting to disguise. I could see it though. I could see it in he's eyes that something had changed in him, like my words had flipped a switch in he's mind. I wasn't sure what I could've said to offend him. I was just joking.

I placed the Sketchpad in my lap, watching as he's stared vacantly at the nothingness surrounding us, "Ezra, I didn't mean what I said. I'm not going to actually hurt you, I was just playing."

He then shook himself free of whatever had captured he's mind, "What? No, I know you are, Aria. I'm fine." He gave a weak smile and I wasn't sure if pressing him with questions would be a good idea. Ezra and I had a silent agreement to not talk about these sorts of things. We were each other's escape from the real world, letting our friendship and our problems intertwine would be messy.

I continued drawing him until inevitably Carol burst through the pale green doors and gave us a disapproving look to which we both sulked out of the room like two naughty toddlers.

The day slowly came to an end. We didn't do much other than engage in 'Circle Time' after we were caught by Carol. Finally, we retreated to our room and slugged over to our respective beds. I snuggled into the blanket, thankful for the warmth it provided my petite body. My mind usually succumb to sleep rather easily being that I was exhausted most of the time anyway, but tonight was different. I couldn't shake what had happened earlier, couldn't shake the image of Ezra's despondent face. I want to help him have fun and be happy, but I'm not sure that can truly happen unless he confronts he's past- unless we both do.

"You awake?" I whisper to him, my voice echoes throughout the room and I hear a few displeased grunt in response but I don't care.

"Yeah. What's up?" He whispered back.

"Earlier, when you got lost..." I hesitantly began, not sure if I was over-stepping my mark. He hummed in response, encouraging me to continue. "Um...was it because I called you Mr Fitz?"

For a few beats I was met with silence and I assumed he had fallen asleep, until I heard him clear his throat.

"Yeah. It's. Ah. I just got caught up in fun, it just kinda brought me back to reality." He sighed, but I didn't respond. I remained silent as I tried to decipher the meaning behind the words, but couldn't. "It's been a while since anyone's called me it and now you're saying it. I don't know. It just doesn't feel right." He awkwardly chuckled, I could tell he found no real humour in the concept though. Still, I couldn't tell why it had such an impact on him though.

I furrowed my brows in confusion, sitting up to look over to him, "Have you not taught since Rosewood High?"

"Nope." He responded, popping the 'P.' I could tell he was trying to appear flippant, but there was a subtle strain in he's voice and I knew there was more to this than he was letting on.

"Did you like Rosewood High?" I asked.

I saw as he shrugged under he's blanket, "There were some good parts... some bad."

"Yeah, I get that." I sighed.

"Do you?" There was a sudden abrasiveness to he's tone, stunning me into silence.

I opened my mouth to retort back to he's comment, but I allowed it to close again. I let out a heavy breath, my tired eyes blinking back tears.

It was clear that Rosewood High was a touchy subject. If this was earlier I would've taken offence and argue back, but I was far too tired to delve into this tonight. I didn't respond instead I snuggled deep into my blanket and coaxed myself into sleep. I didn't cry this time. I wouldn't cry for him again

 **A/N: I know this chapter is very short and might seem quite rushed without much information, but I found I had already written this and it had been in my phone for months. I thought it be best to share it as it alludes to where the story may head in terms of Ezra's past and why he is at the ward. Honestly, not to be arrogant, but after rereading the three chapters I've written, I really love this story. So, I'm hoping to continue it, as well as my others hopefully. I really want to finish these stories even if no one ever reads them lol.**

 **So, sorry for the millionth time and hopefully you enjoyed this short continuation.**

 **-Tasha x**


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